When I was about 12 years old, I started to program on a little computer called the ZX81, an amazing machine that had just been released. It was the first really popular home computer and by today’s standards it was ridiculously limited. A modern computer has about 4 Gigabyes of RAM or more, and often has a hard disc of 1 Terabyte. In contrast, the ZX81 had the tiny RAM working memory of 1K and no hard disk at all.
Now, a RAM of 1K is tiny, so small that the computer had to compile each line of code as you entered it. On a modern computer, you would enter all the statements of the code and then compile it using today’s enormous RAM. You only know that you have made a mistake in your syntax when you compile it.
On the ZX81, if you made a syntax error in a statement, the computer told you as soon as you pressed the Enter key! And it told you very clearly with a big “SYNTAX ERROR” message.
Life is like that, too, you know. You always get immediate feedback, even if you don’t notice it at the time. When you really begin to notice the feedback that you get after each step, you’ll realize that those things that used to seem to be limits were actually not so limiting at all.
I loved that old computer. It ran a version of Microsoft Basic, probably the best Microsoft product that I ever used and certainly the most reliable 😉
It didn’t seem limiting at all. On the contrary, we wrote whole games within that 1K and had such fun and creativity flow.
Month: February 2012
Once while I was in Milwaukee, lecturing, William asked me, “My mother’s sister lives in Milwaukee.
She is independently wealthy, very religious, she doesn’t like my mother and my mother doesn’t like her. She has a housekeeper come in, a maid come in every day to do the housework, the cooking, and she stays alone in that big house, goes to church, has no friends there. She just attends church and silently slips away. And she’s been horribly depressed for nine months. I’m worried about her and I’d like you to stop in and do something for her. I’m the only relative she has that she likes and she can’t stand me. So call on her and see what you can do.”
So, a depressed woman … I introduced myself and identified myself thoroughly . . . asked to be taken on a tour of that house. In looking around I saw she was a very wealthy woman living alone, idle, attending church but keeping to herself, and I went through the house room after room . . .
…and I saw three African violets and a potting pot with a leaf in it being sprouted as a new plant. So I knew what to do for her in the way of therapy.
I told her, “I want you to buy every African violet plant in view for yourself . . . those are yours. I want you to buy a couple hundred potting pots for you to sprout new African violets, and you buy a couple hundred gift pots.
As soon as the sprouts are well rooted, for every birth announcement you send an African violet; for every Christening; for every engagement; for every wedding; for every sickness; for every death; every Church bazaar.”
And one time she had two hundred African violets . . . and if you take care of two hundred African violets you’ve got a day’s work cut out. And she became the African Violet Queen of Milwaukee with endless numbers of friends.
Just that one little interview. I just pointed her nose in the right direction and said “Giddyup”. And she did all the rest of the therapy.
And that’s the important thing about therapy . . . you find out the potentials that are possible for your patients and then you encourage your patient to undertake them and sooner or later he’ll get all wrapped up in it.
Children have short memories and I’ll tell you how to teach children to have good memories. My son Robert one evening announced that he was big enough, old enough, strong enough to take out the garbage. I expressed my doubts, he assured me he WAS big enough, strong enough. I said he might forget, he assured me he wouldn’t. I said, “All right beginning Monday you can do it.” So Monday night he took it out, Tuesday night he took it out and Wednesday night he forgot. So I reminded him on Thursday he apologized for forgetting on Wednesday —took it out Thursday night but forgot it Friday and Saturday. It just happened that early on Sunday morning at 3 A.M. I awakened. I had been very good to Robert—I had let him stay up till past one o’clock. I had awakened at three o’clock. I had wakened Robert apologized very profusely for not having reminded him for taking out the garbage—would he please dress, take out the garbage. So Robert with many unknown thoughts sighed deeply— dressed—took out the garbage. Came back in got out of his clothes into his pajamas into bed. I waited till he was very sound asleep—I awakened him—apologized very sincerely, very profusely, explaining I didn’t know how that one piece of garbage got overlooked. Robert made a more extensive minute search of the kitchen took that piece of garbage out to the garbage pail walked back to ,the house slowly. I was watching through the curtained window. He reached the back porch turned and ran out the alley and kicked off the cover off the garbage can. He came in and thoughtfully undressed into his pajamas. I never again had to remind him. I’ve pulled that trick on all my kids, eight kids got similar memory lessons. That’s a nice way to improve your memory.